


The Tape

by Kody (saturated)



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Canon, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Fix-It, Flashbacks, Homophobic Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-17 05:49:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21049334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturated/pseuds/Kody
Summary: There was always that feeling when he saw Richie.  There was always that feeling that he pushed away and held down because never in a million years would it be a good feeling to have.  He never even realized it was a feeling he was pushing away until he saw a carving on the kissing bridge when he was walking by it earlier. “R+E”.  For a fleeting second he imagined it was him and Richie, but knew that couldn’t be right.  It didn’t matter because Eddie let himself have that thought for the first time, and now here he was, finally kind of accepting what it was, a crush, and Richie admitting he felt the same.AU in which Eddie's token isn't his inhaler but something else with a lot of value.





	The Tape

**Author's Note:**

> Just a warning, I've never read the book and this is based solely on the movies.
> 
> Some of this is also because I needed a reason for Eddie to be able to have access to his childhood items and this felt reasonable even if not canon (but that's fanfic, babey)
> 
> Also! If you didn't read the tags TW for homophobic slurs. There's only, like, one and a half but warning.

Eddie spent the better part of an hour walking around and cursing to himself the whole time. Token? What the fuck was his token supposed to be? His childhood was coming back in bits and pieces so how the fuck was he supposed to figure out what kind of token Mike was looking for? And why split up? Bad shit always happened when they split up. Eddie could remember that much.

He wished they could have at least gone around in pairs or something, even if just to bounce ideas off of each other. Maybe Richie would have been piss poor at coming up with something, but at least he’d be entertaining, and Eddie wouldn’t be ready to fuck out of Derry and be done with it. 

Eddie turned down the street in which his childhood home still sat, hoping for something, _anything_, to jog his memory and find a token.

1989

Eddie sat in his bed, fumbling with his cast while trying to flip through a comic book. He just had to break his right fucking arm, too, making everything impossible. He glanced at the window into the darkening evening, and then checked the time. It was almost 8 p.m. He could wait a little longer.

Richie had made a habit over the last year or so of visiting Eddie’s room after dinner most days of the week. Sometimes it annoyed Eddie, that Richie always did it without asking and considering (especially during the school year) that Eddie might want to get to bed early, but mostly it made Eddie feel special, like Richie had chosen him.

But Richie hadn’t come by in a few days. Not since Eddie overheard people whispering around town about “that fag Tozier” and what he did at the movie theater. Eddie didn’t know whether to believe what had happened or not, and he couldn’t figure out if he wanted it to be true or not, with a large secret part of him hoping that his best friend liked boys the same way he didn’t want to. But Richie hadn’t come by in a few days, and Eddie was scared that maybe it wasn’t true, and Richie was only trying to hide from the rumors until they were gone.

And then his window slid open and in came Richie, grinning ear to ear.

“Spaghetti!” Richie said closing the window. “Long time no see. How’s that broken arm treating you?”

Eddie waved his cast in the air. “I fucking hate everything.”

“Bummer,” Richie said distantly. He was fumbling in his pocket and pulled out what looked like a cassette tape. “I, uh, just came by to drop this off. It’s something I wanted to give you.”

Richie placed it on Eddie’s desk and went to open the window again. Eddie quickly got up to stop him.

“Where are you going?” Eddie said sounding more desperate than he intended to.

“Oh,” Richie said as if he hadn’t expected Eddie to want him to stay. “I have to go, uh, home.”

“Why?”

“Because…because my dad wants to watch a movie with me.”

“Okay,” Eddie said know it was a lie. “It’s just that you always sit with me when you force me to listen to your music. You know, to make sure I like it.”

“Maybe another time,” Richie said, moving for the window again.

Eddie caught Richie’s arm before he could. He could feel Richie tense, and let go of his arm. Eddie didn’t know why he grabbed Richie. He didn’t know if it was because he missed his friend, or if he wanted to make sure that Richie was alright, or if even for the stupid fucking selfish reason of being sure that Richie liked boys so that Eddie could feel better about himself.

“What?” Richie said harshly.

“I know about what happened,” Eddie said quickly. “About the other day at the movie theater with Bowers. I know.”

“Oh.” Richie’s face dropped. “That.”

Eddie looked at Richie for a minute and tried to figure out what he was thinking. Unfortunately for serious matters, Eddie could never tell what was in Richie’s head.

“Is it true?” Eddie asked.

Richie stared at Eddie, and for once Eddie could read him. He shouldn’t have asked that.

“Don’t answer if you don’t want to,” Eddie added.

“It is,” Richie said, “true, I mean.”

“Oh,” Eddie said softly.

“The whole thing. What happened, and…and…and that I’m a fucking queer just like everyone says.”

“Me too,” Eddie said as soon as Richie was done speaking, afraid of losing his confidence. “I think.”

Richie’s face softened, and as he spoke, he adopted an old-time newscaster voice, “Now I see was they mean when they say that gosh darn homosexuality is spreading like a plague. A real disease! That’s what it is!”

_Disease_. “Beep, beep, Richie.”

“Right,” Richie said. “Alright, Eds, you’ve convinced me. I’ll keep you company all fucking night if you’re so desperate to keep me around.” Richie threw his arm around Eddie to drag him over to sit on the bed. Eddie ducked out of it.

“Hold on,” Eddie said. “I want to listen to the tape you came all the way over here to give me.”

Richie went serious again. “No, that’s okay. You can wait till I’m gone.”

“No way, Rich. We’re listening now.”

But Eddie didn’t even have to play the cassette to know what was on it. All he had to do was see the way Richie turned white as a sheet and read the label. Richie didn’t just want to give him this, _he made it for him._ Eddie ran his finger over the handwritten letters, thinking it might erase them, thinking this was all a dream, that there was no way in hell that Richie wrote that on the label of the tape he gave to Eddie.

“Its um,” Richie said quietly, bringing Eddie back to reality, “the first song on there. It’s so, you know, you can tell what the music is before you listen.”

Eddie had seen, and he was processing, but for the first time he truly read what Richie wrote: “Eddie, my love”.

“Do you mean it?” Eddie said turning to look at Richie who had sat on the bed.

“Well, that’s usually how you label a tape you burned so you know what’s on it.”

“Richie.”

Richie clamped his mouth shut, and after a second nodded his head.

Eddie’s heart skipped a beat. Sure, Eddie wanted the rumors to be true to feel more normal, to know that he wasn’t the only one in this bumfuck town that felt like he didn’t belong here, but that was only the surface of what Eddie told himself. There was always that feeling when he saw Richie. There was always that feeling that he pushed away and held down because never in a million years would it be a good feeling to have. He never even realized it was a feeling he was pushing away until he saw a carving on the kissing bridge when he was walking by it earlier. “R+E”. For a fleeting second he imagined it was him and Richie, but knew that couldn’t be right. It didn’t matter because Eddie let himself have that thought for the first time, and now here he was, finally kind of accepting what it was, _a crush_, and Richie admitting he felt the same.

Eddie didn’t know what to do. He was in uncharted territory and instead of cowering like he so desperately wanted to, he walked toward Richie and stopped in front of him. So much shit had been happening, and so much shit had happened in the past few days. He had to do something about it.

Eddie took Richie’s face in his hands (which was slightly awkward because of the cast) and kissed him. It was barely longer than a second but when Eddie pulled away his lips felt tingly, like he wanted more but knew he should wait. He took a step back.

“What was that?” Richie asked looking dazed.

“I like you too,” Eddie said.

“Um, so,” Richie said rubbing the back of his neck, “does this mean we’re boyfriends now, or whatever? Cause…I like that.”

Eddie smiled. “Yeah.” His smile faded quickly. “We can’t tell anyone, though.”

“Of course not,” Richie said holding out one hand to pull Eddie to him, which Eddie happily obliged. Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie and Eddie put his hand on Richie’s shoulders. “Just us.”

“Just us.”

They lied in bed shoulder to shoulder through the night, and Eddie didn’t even care that Richie didn’t leave until the sun was peaking over the trees in the morning.

2016

Eddie stood on the doorstep of his childhood home. It wasn’t vacant and it wasn’t occupied by a new family. No, it was occupied by a man by the name of Tom McMahon who married his mother when he was 24 because she had decided that Eddie not relying on her anymore was too much to handle. She needed someone to need her so she found a husband who was just that. Eddie hardly knew Tom beyond the fact that he was a welder (retired now) who had a knack for being unable to make his own decisions other than deciding immediately that he hated Eddie. Anything that took Sonia’s attention away from him was bad, and if that meant hating her only child, so be it.

The house remained exactly the same, including the tree from the backyard growing over the house, the very same tree that Richie would climb to get to Eddie’s bedroom window. Eddie knocked on the door, suddenly very aware of the fact that it had been years since he had talked to Tom. There was no guarantee of Tom letting Eddie in, or that he would even still have any of the stuff he had left behind. 

The small man Eddie supposed he should call his step-father answered the door.

“It’s you,” Tom stated. There was no emotion in his voice one way or another.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “Hi.”

“What do you want?”

“I came looking for something,” Eddie said getting to the point. There was no cause in chitchat with Tom. They hadn’t spoken in years. There was nothing to gain.

“Course you did,” Tom said. “Not to visit or anything.” Tom paused. “How long has it been?”

“Almost four years,” Eddie said, “since Mom’s funeral.” Eddie thought he should feel bad about that, but he hated Tom as much as Tom hated him. They only got along to make his mom happy, and luckily that was hardly more than once a year.

“Right,” Tom said. “Be quick. Your shit’s still in your room. You’re lucky I never got around to tossing it.” He stepped out of the door and back into the house.

Eddie went inside straight to his room. Exactly as he remembered leaving it. Boxes of his old things lying around everywhere from when he moved to New York after graduating from college. Nothing was different. His mom kept it that way, and it looks like Tom didn’t give enough of a shit to do anything with it.

Eddie was worried he’d have to sort through all kinds of boxes and drawers to find his token, but upon stepping into his room he knew exactly where it was. He went to his old desk, the one he decided was too old and ratty to move to his new place, and open the top drawer. He pushed away everything on top and reached to the back and grabbed what he was looking for. He wondered if it would still play.

He slipped the tape into his old player, the writing faded, but still legible as Richie’s sloppy scribbles. And by some miracle it began to play. “Eddie, my Love” softly flowed through the speakers, but it was wrong, distorted. As the song kept going, it got so distorted that it didn’t even sound like the right song anymore. Eddie quickly took it out, not wanting to ruin it before whatever Mike needed it for.

The cassette out and in his hands, he inspected it. Everything in order. Only then did he realize the music was still playing through the speaker, distorted, but sounding more and more like carnival music. He turned around.

And there It was.

“Oh, Eddie, my love,” It said feigning infatuation, but it wasn’t It. This time, just like before, it was a leper, skin graying, hair falling out in clumps, and body parts sagging. “Is it true that you love me too?”

“No,” Eddie said slowly. “You’re not real.”

“I’m not?” It said. “Then how come you caught my dirty, dirty disease?” It moved towards Eddie. “Give me a kiss, Eddie. Won’t you love me, too? We can be dirty together.”

Eddie closed his eyes. “You’re not real.”

But It was. Eddie was tackled into the wall by It. He opened his eyes to the face of disease.

Terrified, Eddie said the only thing he could think of. “I’m not dirty! I don’t have a disease! You’re the disgusting one! I’m not scared of you!”

That did it. The leper, in one final “fuck you” act, vomited a grimy liquid all over Eddie, and as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. But the grime was not.

“Fuck,” Eddie said as he dropped to his knees wiping the slime from his face.

As soon as he composed himself enough to walk, Eddie left the house. He did not say goodbye to Tom.

* * *

Eddie was upset and scared, but he followed his friends down into the cave if it meant being over this chapter of his life. At one point, he was walking near Richie who must have been able to feel him shaking because he took his hand. Eddie wondered if Richie remembered as much as he did. Since he left his house, things had been coming back quickly, every little piece of them. He remembered falling in love and being terrified of being found out. He remembered the day the others found out because they hadn’t been careful and started making out in Ben’s kitchen during a movie night. He remembered them picking out each other’s dates for dances so the other wouldn’t get too jealous over them trying to keep appearances. He remembered holding hands and lingering kisses and trading shirts and every single time his heart skipped a beat when Richie snuck in through his window. He only hoped Richie remembered the same.

But now was time for the ritual. Bill had brought a paper boat (obviously) and Bev had brought an old poem on a postcard and Ben brought a yearbook page with Bev’s name on it. Richie brought a game token, and Eddie knew what it was for, even if he was the only one who didn’t explain why he brought it. Eddie finally pulled out the cassette tape and held it in both hands, examining it thoroughly before saying anything.

“An old tape,” he said, “the love of my life made for me. He reminded me that loving him the way I did wasn’t a disease, wasn’t a sickness.” He placed the tape in the box and looked up at Richie who was staring at him. They didn’t say anything, but everything they needed to say was said through that look. _I still love you. I never stopped loving you._

* * *

_It kills monsters if you believe it does._

When Bev said this, Eddie thought she was just humoring him, giving him the bravery he needed to keep going. It could kill something, but not monsters, not the monster standing in front of him with Richie caught in its deadlights. Eddie was terrified, but he already failed to save Richie once before resulting in one of the worst things his younger self could have thought, Bill was mad at him.

But now? If Bill being mad was in the top five, something bad happening to Richie was the worst thing that could happen, even as an adult. _It kills monsters if you believe it does._

Eddie ran the risks. It was his job after all. The outlook wasn’t so good, but Bev said it herself, they would die anyway if they didn’t kill Pennywise. Did the risk outweigh the reward? Chance of death if he does this, very high. Chance of death if he doesn’t, also very high. Chance of Richie’s death if he does this, low. Chance of Richie’s death if he doesn’t, extremely high. He made a decision.

_It kills monsters if you believe it does._

The stake flew through the air and into It’s mouth, blood (or whatever it had) everywhere. The deadlights faded and Richie dropped. Eddie didn’t care what happened to It because he truly believed he had killed it. Richie was his priority.

He knelt down over Richie, only slightly aware of the others checking that Pennywise was truly dead.

“Richie,” Eddie said lightly slapping Richie’s face to wake him up. “Richie!”

Richie slowly roused, and looked up at Eddie terrified.

“I did it, Richie,” Eddie said. “I killed It.”

The confirmation echoed in the cave with Bill’s shouts of, “You did it, Eddie! It’s dead!”

Richie relaxed at the sound of that. “You did it, Eds,” he said laying his head down and closing his eyes. “For a second, I thought…”

Eddie remembered that Bev saw something in the lights and wondered, “What did you see, Richie?”

“You,” Richie said. “I saw you…bloody and dying and…and there was nothing we could do.” Richie opened his eyes, and Eddie became very aware of the fact that he was still practically kneeling on top of Richie and cradling his face. “But you did it,” Richie softly laughed. “You killed that fucking clown.”

Eddie couldn’t help himself. He forgot the rest of the world and the others and the cave and the monster and even his wife when he leaned down and kissed Richie. And Richie kissed him back and this time Eddie wouldn’t forget it. He would never forget this again.

**Author's Note:**

> And they all lived happily ever after!
> 
> I have a part 2 in my head but I just finished this one so if I get around to it, I will write it, but this work can sit as its own and honestly so can part 2 (but whatever I'm rambling)


End file.
